


Snapshot

by littlecakes



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Falling In Love, First Time, Fluff, I think i used all my fluff tags here, M/M, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Time Skips, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, a wild noctis appears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 17:52:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15954488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlecakes/pseuds/littlecakes
Summary: Seven years of life and loving.





	Snapshot

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this piece as a big thank you for all of my Tumblr followers. They're wonderful and amazing and supportive and I love all of them with my whole heart! Thanks guys!
> 
> Beta'd by the FABULOUS [dudewheresmytea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dudewheresmytea/works)

**Day 1**

 

Gladio’s pissed. He texted, he called, he even _emailed_ him, and Noctis had totally blown him off. Not only did the prince miss practice, but he’s also not at his apartment and neither he nor Ignis know where he is, which definitely isn’t good. It’s worse for Gladio than it is for Ignis; he’s the fucking Shield of the prince and can’t even find the body he’s supposed to be protecting.

Lucky for him, Noctis is a creature of habit. Gladio knows his hiding places, and hopefully, he won’t be too hard to find. He starts his search at the tackle shop down the street from Noct’s high school. The prince likes to go there and drool over the newest odds and ends that the shopkeeper stocks; unfortunately, there’s no prince here. Nor at the boba shop around the corner. There’s a sinking feeling in Gladio’s stomach as he crosses the street and sees the flashing lights of the arcade.

If Noct isn’t here, then Gladio doesn’t know where the hell he is, and that scares him more than anything else. He’s supposed to be a King’s Shield someday and if he loses the Prince, well… there won’t be a title for him in the future then, will there? Not to mention what his father will say if Noctis is injured or kidnapped or _worse_. Swallowing thickly, Gladio crosses the next street and storms into the arcade. He’s ready to have words with his careless prince.

Gladio towers over most of the games and consoles that are crammed into the large, dirty room. Candy wrappers and sticky spots that cling to Gladio’s sneakers litter the floor, and he can smell the aroma that only comes with a poorly-ventilated space crammed full of sweaty teenagers. His nose wrinkles as a raven-haired head bobs into his view.

“Noctis!” Gladio growls.

The prince’s head whips around and eyes light up in shock. “Shit!” he swears.

“What’s up, Noct? Are you seriously gonna make me kill Pyramid Head by myself?” Someone says in the background. Gladio can’t see who it is.

“I forgot my sparring session with Gladio and he’s here!” Noctis hisses.

“Who’s Gladio?”

Gladio makes his way around the long row of machines, adjusting his hat anxiously. He’s relieved to see Noctis, but that relief is quickly consumed with his rage. Noctis can see the emotions cascading through his Shield- Gladio’s never been one to hide his feelings- and grits his teeth as Gladio quickly crosses the gap between them.

“I’ve been looking fucking everywhere for you!” Gladio growls, towering over his Prince and curling his hands into fists at his side. “Won’t text, won’t call back, I even _emailed you_ , Princess!”

All of the sudden, there’s a man between them. He’s smaller than even Noctis, and his messy blonde hair doesn’t hide the bright red cheeks or the glistening violet eyes- those _eyes,_ they’re unlike any Gladio’s ever seen before- but the blonde stands strong. He thrusts a finger into Gladio’s sternum and frowns at him. “Back off, alright!?”

“Who the hell are you?” Gladio roars. He’d be amused by the sad attempt to stop him if it weren’t for all the anger and the fear that’s coursing through him with the adrenaline.

“P-Prompto! Prompto Argentum!” the blonde pips.

Gladio’s eyes narrow. “Well, _Prompto_ , you know how dangerous it is to stand between a prince and his shield? Cuz you’re about to find out.”

“Bring it!” Prompto stammers, dropping his school bag to the side and pushing up his sleeves. Gladio tosses his hat to the side, ready for whatever this pipsqueak’s about to do, when he looks at the kid’s face. Though his features are screwed up in a look  of determination, and Gladio doesn’t think he’s ever seen so much fear before. Noctis is trying to push between them, but Gladio’s not paying attention; he’s only trying to think of who that face reminds him of. Determination and fear don’t commonly intermingle -usually one wins- but Prompto’s found a balance.

It’s then that Gladio realizes that the place he’s seen an expression like that before is in his own mirror at home when he’s dreaming up terrifying scenarios in which he’ll have to protect Noctis. Gladio finds it easier to feign determination and mask the fear if he practices. Obviously Prompto has been practicing, too.

Gladio drags his hand down his face and takes a deep breath.

“Finally. Gods, Gladio, you need to chill,” Noctis groans. Both Prompto and Gladio relax, but their eyes are still locked. Gladio doesn’t know if he can look away. Thankfully, Prompto’s eyes drop to the floor as he quietly picks up his book bag and clutches it to his chest.

Sighing, Gladio extends a hand. “Sorry… it’s my duty to protect his _Royal Highness_ ,” Gladio says with a sneer directed at Noct, who returns it effortlessly. “But when he doesn’t answer my texts or calls it can be really godsdamned frustrating.”

Gladio expects maybe an eyeroll or some backhanded comment about what a shitty Shield he is. Instead, he receives a grin and Prompto punches Noctis playfully. “Jeez, Noct, this poor guy’s been chasing you around all afternoon and you blow him off? Try not to be a dick next time.”

“Shut up, Prom,” Noctis grumbles.

Gladio smiles. He likes Prompto, he thinks. Maybe.

 

**Day 62**

 

The air whipping by the Regalia fills  Gladio’s mind with a glorious white noise. He can smell the ocean from here; the salty air, heady with moisture from the sea and hot from the sun’s rays, fills his nose and makes him sigh with relief. The four of them have decided to make the trek out here to Galdin Quay so they can celebrate Noct’s and Prompto’s high school graduation. The drive’s been uneventful, therefore inspiring Gladio to curl up in the backseat with a good book.

However, it seems he can’t get past the first couple pages. It’s not that it’s lacking anything - the story’s awesome, the characters are well-written and intriguing- but the real world keeps sucking him back in. Scratch that, it has nothing to do with the real world itself, just two very perfect, very small parts of it.

Prompto’s head bobs against the headrest as he sits next to Gladio in the backseat. His coeurl print-covered knees are tucked up into his chest as the blonde hugs them close. The carefully sculpted updo he sports these days wafts gently in the breeze. These things aren’t what are distracting the Shield, though. It’s his eyes. Perfect lavender irises, kissed with spots of cerulean, flicker from landmark to landmark as Prompto watches the world behind Gladio’s head whiz by.

Gladio reminds himself that Prompto’s not looking at him, but that doesn’t help the uncomfortable twist in his gut. He stares very deliberately at the same page he’s been looking at for what feels like ages now, only looking up to catch glances at the violet gaze that’s so enraptured with the beauty that’s surrounding them.

Gladio wants Prompto to look at him like that, like he’s some all-encompassing thing that swallows the blonde up with wonder. He wants Prompto to look at him the same way _he_ looks at _him_ when he’s positive no one’s looking and he can stare all he wants. It’s okay, though, he’ll live with it. It’s just some stupid crush.

Those glimmering pools of purple then fall upon him, meeting the golden hue of his own gaze, and Gladio can’t help the way that his tongue seems to trap itself in his throat. His eyes drop to his book quickly; he can’t believe Prompto caught him staring like that. It’s embarrassing, and Gladio has to take a few deep breaths to calm his raucous heart and make sure the blush on his cheeks isn’t too apparent. He can’t help himself though, and after a minute, he looks back up to steal another fleeting glance.

Prompto’s eyes are there, waiting for him. The blonde smiles as long, curled lashes droop so gracefully over lilac in such a manner that Gladio’s sure he’s never seen anything that beautiful in his whole life. He bites his lip to make sure this is all real before returning the smile.

Fuck if that smile didn’t snatch his beating heart right out of his chest. Gladio doesn’t care. Prompto can keep it.

 

**Day 100**

 

“Hey, Gladio.” Prompto calls from the other end of the locker room as they’re wrapping up their Crownsguard training session. Prompto just joined last week, and while Gladio was expecting the scrawny blonde to to struggle a little- fall flat on his face even - but he was surprised by him.

Pleasantly.

Again.

Prompto had found he had an affinity for guns, and boy, he’s good with them. Gladio found himself lingering around the range where he absolutely did _not_ belong just to watch him land shot after shot effortlessly. Cor was nearly smitten with his skills, if the Immortal _could_ be smitten. He even had the blonde showing the other recruits his breathing technique that he seemed to pull straight out of thin air that enabled him to land shot after shot with near-perfection.

Prompto proves himself day in, day out with his sheer determination and spunky attitude, that he’s more than capable of handling himself. He’s powerful, he’s independent, and he certainly doesn’t need anyone.

Gladio’s pretty sure he needs him, though. At least, he wants him around. Prompto seems to have an aura made of sunshine: warm, comforting, and sure. Gladio wants to bask in it. He has to be careful, though. Noctis would be more than pissed if Gladio started coming on to his best friend. He’d be even more pissed if Gladio screwed up so badly that Prompto ended up quitting the Crownsguard.

With that in mind, Gladio treads quietly, cautiously. It’s just another part of his duty, he tells himself, to separate duty from his own wants and needs anyway.

“What’s up?” the Shield replies as he towel-dries the water out of his hair. As he rises, he wraps the towel around his neck and starts to slide his belt into his belt loops. When it’s still quiet- Prompto’s _never_ this quiet- Gladio looks up at him to see a sheepish grin on his face and a blush that starts from the tip of his ears and descends well beyond the dip of his clavicle.

“You alright?” Gladio asks, trying very hard to focus on violet and not reddened freckles. They’re not his to admire, as much as he wants to.

“G- go out with me.” Prompto chirps, at a pitch Gladio’s pretty positive has never been achieved by humans before.

Gladio smirks. “What’s that, chocobo?”

“Go out with me.” Prompto says, at a much more comprehensible pitch as he wrings the red flannel of his Crownsguard vest nervously.

Gladio’s heart nearly stops in his chest and his fingers fumble as his belt falls to the floor. The clatter of the steel buckle against the stone tiles is loud, so painfully loud. It’s nearly as loud as his heart thrumming away in his ears like a heavy bassline. Gladio feels like he might have to pick his jaw up off the floor.

Prompto rolls his lower lip between his teeth and frowns as the nervous excitement on his features transforms to crestfallen disappointment. “Sorry, sorry. Forget I said anything.”

Gladio’s still trying to find words to express the crippling bliss that’s blooming in his chest as he reaches for Prompto, grabbing his hand before he can slip out of the locker room. Prompto turns around and looks at Gladio with shimmering eyes and a furrow in his brow that tells the Shield he’d rather become part of the wall than be seen like this.

He can only stare, _gods_ , Gladio tries to come up with anything else, but all he can say is, “Yes.”

“Yes!?” Prompto asks, his lips parting and eyes widening with delighted surprise.

Gladio nods.

“Cool.”

 

**Day 212**

 

“Gotta be quiet, sunshine.” Gladio whispers into the tuft of golden hair behind Prompto’s ear.

He’s answered by a giggle; it’s fucking adorable, that giggle. Like music to his ears, it’s the sweetest sound. He wants to hear it again, so much so that he sinks his fingertips into Prompto’s side, making the blonde quietly squeal with delight and squirm in their sleeping bag.

“Not helping!” Prompto gasps between laughs.

His freckled bare skin looks ethereal in the white-blue light of the full moon as it trickles in through the door panels of the tent. Gladio kisses the tender skin behind his ear and hums softly. Removing his fingers from the sensitive spots on Prompto’s ribs, Gladio moves them further south until they’re tracing the subtle curve of his boyfriend’s hip. There’s barely the hint of an Adonis belt there after all this time. Prompto’s hips just barely press into the hardening length growing between Gladio’s thighs, eliciting a groan.

“Gotta be quiet, big guy,” Prompto whispers teasingly. Gladio can see the naughty smirk on Prompto’s face if he closes his eyes. Nipping at the sensitive skin again, just hard enough to reprimand but soft enough to be endearing, Gladio unzips the sleeping bag and folds it back.

“Not cool!” Prompto hisses, curling his nakedness inward to protect himself from the chilly midnight air.

“C’mon, chocobo,” Gladio murmurs, pulling his boxers up around his hips, deftly grabbing the back of toiletries from his pack, and creeping out of the tent. Prompto’s right on his heels, bracing himself against the steely cold of the open air. Gladio crawls down the side of the haven and turns to help Prompto. He smirks before hopping off the edge of the haven and into Gladio’s waiting arms; the Shield can hardly contain his delight, grinning devilishly as Prompto wraps his strong legs around Gladio’s torso. They’ve only been dating a few months, but Prompto’s weight in his arms is familiar and comforting. Prompto lifts Gladio’s heart from the encompassing shadows that have left him fraught with anxiety about Noct’s upcoming coronation.

Prompto giggles again as Gladio presses him against the shallow cliffside. From here, they’re far enough from the tent that Ignis and Noct won’t wake, but they’re close enough to be protected by the haven’s magic. Gladio loves them like this: exposed, naked, wanting. They’ve only gone as far as to touch each other, to press their naked bodies together and just _feel_ , but Gladio senses they’re in for more tonight by the way Prompto’s eyes dilate in the moonlight.

“Gladio,” Prompto sighs. Gladio loves the way he says his name like that, like he’s a sip of ice-cold water on a hot day, or a song he hasn’t heard in years that sends shivers up his spine.

“Prom,” Gladio hums back, kissing and sucking at his neck. Prompto doesn’t care if he leaves marks; his boyfriend likes the way Gladio marks him like he belongs to him.

“I want you.”

Pulling away from his neck, Gladio looks deep into his eyes. He wasn’t expecting this, certainly not like this; Gladio had been intending to set the mood with candles, dinner, the whole nine yards. That’s so _like_ Prompto though, to want Gladio as he is, without the bells and whistles, and it makes Gladio’s core melt with affection.

“You sure?” Gladio asks, stroking Prompto’s cheek with a calloused thumb.

The blonde nods, pressing a kiss to Gladio’s lips; it’s wanting, hungry, lascivious, and makes Gladio’s resolve crumble under the pressure of those pink, plump lips. Gladio responds with fervent kisses, settling his weight against Prompto so he can hear the sigh he always makes when they’re pressed together like this, like they’re trying to become one.

Loving Prompto comes to Gladio as easily as breathing, he discovers. There’s so much love there that Gladio feels like he could be swept away in it as he sinks into his partner. Teasing words of jest quickly dissolve into quiet moans and whimpers. It’s like everything Gladio’s been looking for, everything he’s wanted, is right there in his arms and clinging to him like a life preserver. Prompto’s getting swept away in it too, lost to the physical world in the endless waves of pleasure they share together. Gladio could listen to the sound of his ecstasy all night, could lose himself forever as he thrusts into his heat, but his body just won’t allow it. He shudders, gripping Prompto tightly in his arms as he spills his orgasm inside of him.

There’s no candles, no anticipation, no expectations, but it’s perfect.

 

**Day 365**

 

“I love you…”

Gladio nearly drops Prompto when he hears those three magnificent words slip from the blonde’s sleep-addled lips. They were previously curled up on Gladio’s couch, limbs tangled beneath the soft fleece of Prompto’s favorite blanket as they watched Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Soft snores interrupted Audrey Hepburn for the third time and Gladio had decided then that maybe bed was better than trying to prod Prompto awake again.

He was tucking the blanket as carefully as he could around his sleeping boyfriend- or at least he _thought_ he was sleeping, maybe he was just murmuring in his dreams- when Prompto caught him by surprise. Gladio allows the broad grin to creep across his face as he carries Prompto to the bedroom and lets the love he hides in his heart ripple through him like a wave as he sets him on the bed. He wants to be sure that Prompto’s serious before he jumps to conclusions.

“Prom.” Gladio says as he sinks into the mattress and pulls the blonde against him.

“Hmmm?” Prompto says, opening his eyes sleepily.

“You mean it?” Gladio asks as the corner of his mouth curls into a knowing smirk.

He only catches a glimpse of Prompto’s violet eyes before they slip behind the curtain of sleep again. “Mhm.”

“Alright. Let’s talk about it tomorrow.”

“’Kay.”

 

**Day 366**

 

“I love you too,” Gladio says simply as he takes a bite of toast.

Prompto coughs and sputters as he sloshes half of his coffee onto the table.

“ _What?_ ” Prompto exclaims.

Gladio shrugs before grinning. “I said, I love you too.”

“When did I say I love you first!?” Prompto asks, his eyes nearly the size of the plates on the table. The diner they’ve selected for breakfast bustles with the typical energy of the mid-morning rush. Their waitress arrives, refills Prompto’s coffee cup, and sets a stack of napkins down before whisking away to the other end of the restaurant. Prompto sits there stunned; he can barely mutter a thank you as their waitress walks off.

“Last night,” Gladio said with a coy smile. He looks up at Prompto through his eyelashes. “When I was carrying you to bed.”

“ _I said that out loud!?_ Oh gods, Gladio, I’m sorry!”

Gladio snorts. “Why are you apologizing?”

Prompto sinks a little into the booth as he stares at the puddle of coffee on the table, deep in thought. “I dunno,” he says a moment later, a little flabbergasted by his own apology.

“Did you mean i-” Gladio begins to ask with an air of hope and a whole lot of other, more uncomfortable emotions that mix and churn in his gut. He plays it cool with a smile and a casual bite of bacon, though he can hardly taste the flavor as his tongue seems to be coated with trepidation.

“Of course!” Prompto answers swiftly. He doesn’t even let Gladio finish his sentence. The blonde reaches across the table, taking Gladio’s hand in his and looking at him earnestly. Prompto’s gaze is so startlingly serious, it makes Gladio’s heart stop beating and his mind stop racing for a moment.

“Of course I love you.” Prompto says quietly, as a fantastic shade of pink highlights the fine features of his face. Gladio can’t help but reach across the table and touch his reddened cheek, feel the softness, just to see if it’s really real... if this is really happening. Of course, it is, but Gladio sometimes wonders if Prompto’s too good to be true and he’s going to wake up from this like it’s just a dream.

“I love you too, Prom.” Gladio says with a smile as he stands, leans over the table, and kisses him. The warmth there in his lover’s lips can’t even compare to the inferno that’s burning in his chest like a wildfire.

 

**Day 2555**

 

Gladio’s face hurts from smiling.

That doesn’t mean he stops, of course. He doesn’t think he could stop smiling today, even if he wanted to. Not with all of his dearest friends gathered here at Cape Caem, or the way the magic lights glimmer overhead, or the sound of the ocean waves endlessly beating against the rocky shore. Especially not with Prompto here by his side, like he always has been. Like he always _will be,_ as he promised Gladio earlier that day, with their hands wrapped in the binding cloth that had been passed down the Amicitia line for centuries and the faintest whisper of tears in his eyes. Noctis had joined them, and beautifully so, with only the regalia and grace a King could muster.

He can still remember the way Prompto’s voice had dropped as he whispered, “ _I promise you._ ”

They’d forgone ‘I do’s, with Gladio claiming the words weren’t enough for him to say. No words could do the job, could express the fondness that had grown in his heart to rival the size of the ocean that grew endlessly past the horizon behind them. As the sun dipped below it, Gladio looked to his boyfriend- _husband_ , he corrected himself, it still felt so unreal- and saw happy, yet tired, eyes. After an entire evening filled with dancing, toasts, and excessive amounts of champagne, he couldn’t say he didn’t feel the same to some degree.

“Prom.” Gladio says, leaning over to whisper in Prompto’s ear. “I need a minute. Wanna join me?”

“Thought you’d never ask.” Prompto jests, grabbing his suit jacket as he rises from his seat. The guests are engrossed in the music; Gladio isn’t surprised when he sees Ignis sweep his King across the dance floor in a waltz that the Shield isn’t sure Noct even knows the steps to. Nevertheless, there’s an endless joy playing upon his face, not unlike everyone else’s. It’s hard not to be happy on a day as perfect as this one.

Prompto and Gladio slip into the lighthouse elevator, clasping hands as the ancient mechanism creeps to life beneath their feet. It’s quiet in here, save for the quiet grind of gears and squeak of the chains lifting them up. Gladio smiles at Prompto eagerly and Prompto kisses him with smiling lips.

“So happy,” Prompto sighs.

“Me too, sunshine.” Gladio says.

The elevator grinds to a halt and Prompto grabs Gladio’s wrist to stabilize himself. Gladio pulls the hand until it’s looped around his elbow and the two walk out onto the promenade. The lighthouse light hasn’t worked in years and the lights below them glitter like shards of glass as they round the lighthouse to the side that looks out over the ocean. The sun’s dipped low below the horizon now, and the pinkish, yellow hues of the sunset are quickly fading.

That’s okay, though. Gladio didn’t bring Prompto up here to watch the sunset.

Prompto’s gasp is quiet, and if Gladio weren’t wrapped around him with his chin propped atop his golden halo of hair, he wouldn’t have heard it. Gladio squeezes him tighter as they watch the stars begin to appear, one by one, and then suddenly there’s _thousands_ of them, glittering overhead and dotting the surface of the sea, making it look as if it’s made of gemstones.

Gladio slips away, only to reposition himself so that he’s leaning against the railing. He doesn’t even have to ask anymore, Prompto’s already there in his arms, leaning his head against his chest as he always does while they take in the splendor of the stars that increasingly surround them. Gladio can’t seem to find his breath. It’s as if the heavens, his husband, and this perfect moment have all stolen it from him.

Gladio doesn’t care. Prompto can keep it.

“Hey, big guy,” Prompto purrs, reaching up to touch Gladio’s bearded cheek, to card his fingers through the long, brown locks that cascade from the intricate braid that Iris had worked into his hair earlier that morning. The cold metal of his wedding band is a stark contrast to the warmth of his hand. Gladio grasps him gently by the wrist, pressing a kiss to the inside of it, and swears he can feel his husband’s pulse, fluttering like the wings of a bird against his lips.

“What is it, sunshine?” Gladio murmurs.

“Nothin’,” Prompto says casually. He’s still touching, still ghosting his soft, cool fingertips over Gladio’s hair, his face, his chest. Gladio doesn’t want him to stop, he wants to absorb everything about this moment into his brain and never let it go.

“Just wanna make sure this is real, is all,” Prompto giggles.

Gladio kisses him tenderly. “I know what you mean, chocobo.”

Prompto beams and the radiant quality of his smile rocks Gladio to the core. They kiss sweetly as the misty ocean breeze slowly coats their suit jackets until they’re both trembling and wet. Laughing, Prompto pulls away from the embrace to hold his jacket around himself. They can hear the tinkle of forks against glasses and laughter below, calling them back to reality like a siren’s song.

“Guess we better get back,” Prompto sighs.

“Yep,” Gladio says. “But just one more thing.”

“What is it?” Prompto asks.

Gladio pulls his phone from his pocket and hands it to Prompto. “We need a picture.” Gladio says with a grin.

“Isn’t that what we hired a photographer for?” Prompto says pointedly.

“I only see one photographer up here, and he’s been so busy kissing his husband he hasn’t bothered to take any pictures,” Gladio teases, kissing Prompto’s temple.

“ _Oh,_ I see now. You tell me I can’t take the pictures, and now you’ve changed your mind!” Prompto exclaims with feigned exasperation.

“Before we lose the starlight, c’mon, Prom.”

“Alright, alright. The starlight’s not going anywhere, just sayin’. Get over here.” Prompto says, cuddling up to Gladio and extending his arm out. Gladio has to crouch down a little to fit in the photo, but that’s something he’s always done over these past seven years. As Prompto’s finger presses to the button, Gladio presses a swift kiss to his cheek, earning a squirmy laugh from his husband.

“You’re so cheesy.” Prompto says.

“You love it.” Gladio retorts.

“I do.” Prompto says with a happy sigh as he wraps his arms around Gladio’s neck. It feels second-nature to slip his arms around Prompto’s waist and lift him up until they’re at eye level.

“No, you promise. Remember?”

Another laugh, clear as a bell, another little chunk of this perfect moment Gladio wants to remember, always.

“Right. I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, kudos, bookmarks, and sacrifices to your favorite ancient deity are always appreciated.


End file.
